


Moments of Weakness

by kaitou_marron



Category: Ao no Exorcist | Blue Exorcist
Genre: Gen, Introspection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-13
Updated: 2011-08-13
Packaged: 2017-10-31 11:22:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/343509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaitou_marron/pseuds/kaitou_marron
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yukio discovers that he does not handle grief well and finds himself harboring dark emotions that are hard to shake. (This fic is anime-verse centric with mild spoilers through episode 9.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moments of Weakness

Dawn was breaking as Yukio made his way back to the church he had called home for so long. Although he was sad to leave the familiar surroundings of his childhood home, the prospect of a new setting at the school he had worked so hard to get into excited him. As he neared the building, even before it was in sight, his skin prickled with dark energy that he felt pulsing in the air, filling him with dread and foreboding. He didn’t walk the rest of the way to the church; he ran. Upon entering the front door, he was welcomed with the sight of a gutted interior, of his brother crying with anguish, of clergymen strewn about like toys, and of his father’s body lying still.

‘Father?’ he thought, panic coursing through every nerve in his being. As he bridged the gap between the door and Shiro, his heart thudded so loudly in his chest that he could hear the hollow sound ringing in his ears. The sight in front of him stole his breath and caused the strength to drain from his body, forcing him to drop to his knees.

‘It can’t be,’ he told himself. And then he repeated the statement again and again, hoping to convince himself that it was true. However, the image before him was so strong that he couldn’t block it out by mere denial. All that remained of his father was a bloody, mangled corpse. And the blood, his father’s blood, was everywhere, soaking into the wood of the floorboards and coating his hands with sticky, coppery fluid. The metallic smell was so thick and strong that he couldn’t help but gag in response to it.

In horror, Yukio realized that this was the last memory that he would have of his father. In that instant, one fleeting thought entered his mind, and it was directed at Rin. ‘It’s all your fault; I hate you.’ Shocked at the degree of venom in this initial reaction, he quickly chased the thought away, telling himself that it was nobody’s fault. Even though he wasn’t sure he quite believed it at this point, he knew that one day, when he was not in shock and could be more rational, he would. He felt as if he should be actively reacting to the gruesome scene in front of him – screaming, crying, anything really – but all he could manage to do was stare dumbly at his hands covered with his father’s blood.

~*~*~

Yukio soon discovered that, unfortunately, the last memory of his father would not be of the night when he had discovered Shiro’s body in the church after Satan’s attack. The last time he would see Shiro was on the autopsy table run by the Japanese branch of the True Cross Order’s morgue.

Yukio had insisted on getting the autopsy report as soon as it was ready, and he had always had the habit of being punctual. However, this did not necessarily mean that others held time in the same high regard that he did. Knocking on the door, he paused briefly before entering. When he walked in the room, his eyes were immediately drawn to the body of his father, sitting out in the open, uncovered. Shiro, who had always been so pale, looked even more so now than Yukio had ever remembered. Death had brought a certain blue pallor to his father’s skin, and there was something disconcerting about seeing the visible wounds from the attack as well as the incision lines from the autopsy. Even though Yukio had no reason to believe so, it felt to him as if fate itself wanted to punish him by purposely laying out the butchered remains of his father for him to see. Although it wasn’t his first time seeing a corpse, the fact that this was his father destroyed his normal composure.

“Father?” he couldn’t help but whisper, suddenly feeling as if he was 6 years old again - scared, alone, and lost.

Upon seeing Yukio’s presence, the attendant rushed to pull a cover over the body. But it was already too late; the damage to Yukio’s already frazzled nerves was done. “I’m sorry, Okumura-san,” the attendant apologized. “We’re just running a little late, and…” her voice trailed off. Biting her lip nervously, she picked up her clipboard, and looked at him uncertainly, as if she wasn’t sure whether or not to proceed.

Pursing his lips together, Yukio worked to wipe any trace of emotion off of his face, reminding himself that he was the one who had demanded Mephisto make the full report available to him as soon as it was ready. He was the one who had thought that knowing exactly what had happened to his father physically would help him gain closure. Right now he was cursing his own curiosity.

When it was clear that Yukio had visibly calmed down, the attendant began reading from her notes. “Well, we were able to confirm your suspicions as to what had happened that night. From the autopsy, all signs point to the fact that the death was due to possession by a demon that was too strong for the victim to contain. The way that the blood vessels burst confirms that possession was made possible due to a lost internal struggle with no aid of any prior physical wound.”

She continued using such precise and clinical terms that it made Yukio feel as if his father was being dehumanized. The man in front of them wasn’t just the “corpse” or “victim” as the attendant kept on calling him; he was Yukio’s father. Merely listening to the report made his stomach turn and bile rise in his throat. But bravely, he stood there and learned about all of the wounds his father had suffered (self-inflicted and otherwise), locking his knees to keep his legs from giving out from underneath him and clenching his fists tightly so that his hands would stop shaking. He was sure he’d permanently have tiny crescent-shaped indents in his palms from his nails.

When the report was over, Yukio calmly and politely excused himself. Once outside the door (making sure that no one was around to bear witness), he ran to the bathroom, entered the closest stall, dropped to his knees, and promptly emptied the contents of his stomach into the tidy-white bowl in front of him, his fingers clutching at the plastic and porcelain to help steady himself. Once his dry heaving stopped, he leaned his quivering body against the wall of the stall. He thought that now was the appropriate time for tears, but none would come. He was just too exhausted.

~*~*~

After his father’s funeral, Yukio found himself heading towards the Exorcist-only shop that he and his father had frequented so often in the past. Prior to Shiro’s untimely death, the two of them were due in to pick up an order. Someone else from the church had offered to pick it up instead with the best of intentions, however, it was his father’s last order, and he’d be damned if he let someone else pick it up. Additionally, Mephisto had made it clear that he wanted Yukio to leave the graveyard once his father’s funeral service was over. Even without being explicitly told, Yukio knew that it had to do with his twin. He supposed that if the Order had decided it was necessary to execute Rin, the one kindness that Mephisto could offer was to prevent him from seeing another family member slain for the second time within the week.

Staying away from his twin was for the better, Yukio decided, as he wasn’t sure what he would say to Rin even if given the opportunity. He understood himself well enough to know that he hadn’t yet gained enough control over his emotions to look at his twin without feeling anger or blame. It was awful, but it was the truth. In his mind, he could only replay certain memories of his childhood – of his father doting over Rin and of his father’s infinite patience with Rin. Yukio had never received that sort of attention. Although Yukio didn’t doubt his father’s love for him, it was impossible not to notice the special treatment afforded to his twin, as if Rin had needed more love and care. Perhaps his father had been right about Rin’s needs, but while in mourning Yukio could only focus on his own pain.

With a heavy sigh, Yukio adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose. He knew that all of these dark emotions were the grief talking, but that didn’t make them feel any less real. In the depths of his heart, he wished that he was a better person. Calmly, he reminded himself that if he gave himself more time, he would surely be able to work through the grief and the ugly emotions that had spawned from it. He knew that genuine love and fondness existed between his brother and himself, and he had promised their father that he would always protect Rin. This was the very reason he had studied exorcism since the tender age of seven. Perhaps those noble feelings would return once the pain of losing his father wasn’t still so raw. He could only hope.

When he arrived at the store, the shop-keeper gave him a sympathetic, motherly smile. “I’m so sorry for your loss. Father Fujimoto did so much good; he’ll be missed.”

Yukio opened his mouth to thank her for her kind words, but he found that the developing thickness in the back of his throat prevented him from uttering a sound. So he nodded instead, which allowed him time to gain his composure once more. ‘One one-thousand, two one-thousand, three one-thousand,’ he counted in his head. After his breathing steadied, he managed a smile, and said, “I’m here to pick up father’s last order.”

“Certainly,” the shop-keeper responded, opening her drawers and digging through them.

While he was waiting, he heard some shuffling, and then a quiet, “Yuki-chan…”

When Yukio looked up, he saw Shiemi’s tiny, blonde head peeking from the doorway behind the counter. Her emerald-green eyes looked worried.

“Good afternoon, Shiemi-san,” he said with his usual pleasantness.

The corners of her mouth turned down, and she looked like she wanted to say something.

“What is it, Shiemi-san?” he encouraged gently. He was always gentle with Shiemi, because something about her fragility reminded him of himself when he had been younger. He realized with surprise that he felt relieved to be concentrating on Shiemi, as it provided him a much needed distraction from his own emotions.

“A-are you going to be okay?” she asked. “D-do you need someone to talk to?”

Yukio froze. He didn’t want to talk about his father’s passing, his struggle to handle his grief, or anything connected therein – not with anybody. He simply wasn’t ready. So he answered with a reassuring but dismissive, “I’ll be fine. Thank you.” Although the words left his lips easily, they sounded hollow to his ears.

Her eyes still held concern, so he forced himself to smile. He knew he would be fine; nobody needed to worry about him. However, if he was being honest with himself, he had to admit that the smiles were becoming harder to muster and even more difficult to keep in place.

After paying for the supplies, he left the shop, balancing the items in the paper bag between the bend in his elbow and his chest, knowing that it would be the last connection he would have with his father.

‘Don’t cry,’ he scolded himself. After all, he had worked very hard over the years to gain control of his emotions. So he didn’t cry, but he did notice that his grip around the supplies tightened.

~*~*~

After his first day of teaching the Anti-Demon Pharmacology class, Yukio needed to find a place to be alone in the worst way. He had made too many mistakes, and he hated when he made mistakes. The fact that he was acting as the teacher only made him feel worse.

Heading in the opposite direction of where his students were, he wandered aimlessly for a while. It wasn’t as if the quarters for Exorcist cram school were teeming with life. It felt good to physically distance himself from his classroom, as if it was helping him distance himself emotionally as well.

Once he found a deserted hall to his liking, he meandered down it, entering a dark, unused classroom on a whim. Shutting the door behind him, he leaned against it and sunk to the floor, relishing the feel of the cool wood through his clothing. It wasn’t until that moment that he realized he was trembling.

His nerves and emotions were worn thin, and for the first time since his father’s death, he couldn’t deny that there were substantial cracks in that perfectly polished mask he was so used to putting forth. In that moment, he tried to rationalize away all of those dark thoughts that he had been trying to hide for so long.

So what if he blamed Rin for their father’s death? Wasn’t it only natural? Hadn’t he spent his entire life watching his father protect Rin?

Yukio had strong childhood memories of his father explaining the importance of preserving Rin’s humanity and protecting Rin’s innocence. However, at the same time, Yukio’s innocence had been automatically forfeit, as he had been thrown into the dark, scary world of demons early in his life, far too early. For as long as he could remember, monsters had existed and they weren’t limited to hiding under his bed or in his closet. When Yukio had been younger, he hadn’t been capable of understanding how all the circumstances of their birth fit together to create the situation he was in, so naturally, he had found himself a little bit jealous of the protective manner in which Shiro had treated Rin. After all, Yukio had always done his best to work hard and to be well behaved. Despite all of his efforts, he hadn’t been the one receiving special treatment as a child.

With a heavy sigh, he realized that perhaps his father’s death only served to magnify these negative feelings he had always managed to push aside in the past. He couldn’t help it. He was human, and he needed someone to blame. Even if Rin hadn’t physically killed their father, wasn’t it still at least partially Rin’s fault? And if that were the case, was it so wrong for Yukio to blame his twin for their father’s death, regardless of who actually did the killing?

‘Who’s behaving more like a demon now, Rin or myself?’ he asked himself bitterly.

He thought back to the conversation he’d had with Rin in the classroom. His brother had been right; the two of them hadn’t had a decent conversation since their father’s passing. And Yukio had to admit that he was at fault; he could tell that Rin had been waiting all of this time for him to open up, to ask questions, or just to say anything at all about their father’s passing. Instead of opening the lines of communication, Yukio had chosen to keep his mouth shut and to stay distanced from his own twin, the one person who would understand what he was going through. He had chosen to let himself get caught up in his negative thoughts. He had even tried to shoot his own brother.

It was times like this that Yukio was reminded that he was truly his biological father’s son, no matter how human he was physically. The very thought of it filled him with disgust and self-loathing.

“I’m the worst,” he whispered. As soon as the words passed through his lips, he knew that he believed them. In that classroom filled with demons, demons were all he could see… even in his brother. He had pointed a gun at his own kin and at one point had even wished to fire; he had wanted to see his own brother crumple to the ground before him. He had never felt so conflicted in his life. Part of him could only focus on Rin's demonic nature and how it had led to their father’s death. However, another part of him couldn’t discount everything Rin had been to him up until now: a kind brother who had never hesitated to defend him. Yukio didn’t know how to balance his love and his anguish.

He knew that he was mourning, but he couldn’t get rid of those dark, hateful emotions and move past his grief. He wanted everything to go back to normal, and he wanted not to feel anything at the same time.

‘Perhaps I should take up drinking,’ he thought, only half jokingly. ‘At least that would take away the pain.’

Now that he was alone, he felt it appropriate (and perhaps even necessary) to cry for the loss of his father and to cry at his own damnable weakness in hopes of letting go of some of the bottled up negativity he held deep within. Surprisingly, no tears would surface. So he sat in the dark, pulled his knees to his chest, and rocked back and forth until his body stopped trembling.

~*~*~

Only a couple of days had passed since Rin’s class had all become esquires, and Yukio was wandering the campus alone. Every time he moved, his back ached. It was his own fault for being careless enough to allow Neuhaus to toss him around like a rag doll. As inconspicuously as possible, Yukio placed a hand on the small of his back and applied a gentle pressure, cringing at the resulting pain. Although Rin’s injuries had been worse following the fight, they had all but healed. Due to the fact that Yukio was only human, he was sure his back would a purple, blotchy mess for at least a week.

“Yuki-chan!” a light, airy voice called from behind him.

“Ah, good afternoon, Shiemi-san,” he returned cheerfully, slowing so she could catch up with him. “Congratulations on becoming an esquire.”

“Thanks,” she said flushing slightly. “Umm… I… I actually was wondering how Rin was doing. When I saw him the roof the other night, he seemed badly injured. Even though he says he’s fine, I’m still worried.”

Yukio felt his lips draw into a tight line. Hearing Shiemi fuss over Rin filled him with an unexpected and irrational annoyance, especially since he knew he should be happy that Shiemi and Rin had been able to become friends with one another so easily, as making friends didn’t come naturally to either of them. “He’s fine,” Yukio managed, hoping that his voice didn’t sound as strangled as he thought it did. “My brother has always been a fast healer.”

The corners of Shiemi’s mouth turned downwards as she focused on Yukio. “Are you going to be okay?” she asked.

He had heard that very question from her before, and it brought back memories from when she had asked the same thing following his father’s funeral.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” he asked. Although his voice sounded calm and friendly, he felt as if he would snap any moment and start screaming or hitting things. So he did the only thing he could think of; he forced a smile on his face.

However, his normal pleasantries didn’t seem to fool Shiemi this time, and she continued her line of worried questioning. “Do you need to talk to someone? It doesn’t have to be me… Maybe Rin would be more appropriate to understand? I can see you’re having a hard time with something…”

“Thank you for your concern,” he said, cutting in smoothly and giving her the boiler plate response he had given all others who had wanted to make sure that he was “okay.” “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have somewhere I need to be.”

“Um, sure,” she said, still looking hesitant and uncertain.

“It’s really okay,” he assured her one last time, before he headed off on his own.

Once alone, he wondered if the days had always been so long and hard to get through.

~*~*~

Back in his dorm room, Yukio was welcomed by some much needed privacy, as several hours passed before Rin returned home for the night. Yukio, busily finishing up his homework at his desk, found himself grumbling some generic complaint upon Rin’s entrance, equating this to the fact that his twin needed to take his studies more seriously or else he’d flunk out of his classes.

Tilting his head back and peering at Rin with a slight smirk, he expected his twin, like normal, to go into some frenzied defense of his own abilities. However, his normally rambunctious brother seemed oddly serious.

Setting his bag and sword on the ground, Rin simply asked, “Do you hate me?”

“What!?” Yukio snapped back, turning around in his seat to face his brother who was still standing at the door. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“You haven’t answered the question,” Rin pointed out, eyes narrowing.

“You’re my brother,” Yukio responded preparing to turn around in the chair once more to face his desk again. However, Rin’s glare was so pointed and filled with emotion that it held Yukio hostage.

“Just answer the goddamn question!” Rin exploded.

“Always so quick to anger,” Yukio murmured, clicking his tongue lightly. “It’s something you should work on.”

“And you should stop deflecting and answer my goddamn question. I am your older brother!” With that, Rin actually stalked over to Yukio and shook his shoulders hard.

Yukio’s mind flooded with snarky comments, but he decided against using any of them. He could tell Rin was getting more and more agitated, and when Rin was in this particular mood, it was better just to be frank with him and get it over with.

“I don’t hate you,” Yukio assured him. It was the truth. No matter what other conflicted emotions he had about his twin, they were kin, and he would never be able to hate Rin.

Finally being given a straight answer, Rin straightened so that he was out of Yukio’s face. More quietly, with eyes adverted, he asked, “Do you still blame me for father’s death?”

Yukio was taken aback and blinked a couple of times to regain his composure. It was uncharacteristic for Rin to look this serious or to be this earnest. He wondered what could have brought such a change in his brother and came to the conclusion that Shiemi must have shared her concerns about him with Rin. Yukio opened his mouth and tried to say, “no” but couldn’t quite manage the words.

“It wasn’t my fault,” Rin told him firmly. “However, I’ll take your blame for as long as you feel like you need to blame me.”

Yukio’s heart twisted uncomfortably, as there were hundreds of things he wanted to say to his twin, but he kept his mouth shut. However, he soon found that he didn’t have to say anything, because Rin was continuing even without a response

“Have you grieved properly?”

“I’ve been to visit father’s grave plenty,” Yukio answered, finally finding his tongue.

“That’s not what I meant!” Rin exclaimed. “It’s fucking upsetting, and what happened sure as hell wasn’t fair in any way. Have you screamed, cried, beat something up? You know, let out those emotions that you’re keeping bottled up.”

Yukio opened his mouth to protest that of course he had been mourning properly, but he shut it again without saying a word. It was in that moment, he realized that there had been many times he had wanted to cry, but the tears had just seemed too difficult, exhausting, or inconvenient.

“It’s ironic,” Rin teased with an impish look on his face. “That you used to be such a crybaby, but now you’ve somehow forgotten how to cry.” Then, his face sobered. “You can cry, Yukio. You don’t always have to keep your composure. Nobody expects that of you. You’re only human,” he said, emphasizing the last word. “I’ve cried and screamed a bunch. It helps me feel less crappy. Maybe it’ll do the same for you. Come on, it’ll be just like old times. Your older brother will always be there for you.”

With Rin’s urging, Yukio was finally able to find his tears. And so he cried for the father he had lost and for the fact he had been channeling his emotions the wrong way all this time, something that could have and almost did cost him his brother. Rin, true to his word, acted like an older brother by leaning in and pulling Yukio close, holding him as a means of comfort.

To Yukio the embrace felt familiar and warm, and he was instantly reminded of his and Rin’s childhood together, to a time before he had begun training to become an exorcist, more specifically to a time when his only response to anything was to cry. Rin had always been there for him in the past, running to comfort him or to defend him, just like he was doing now. Perhaps Yukio had underestimated how dependable his older brother could be. And suddenly, his emotions became clear to him. “I don’t hate you,” he said definitively. “And I don’t blame you.”

With that, Yukio felt his sense of purpose reestablish and solidify. They were brothers, and they were there for each other. Rin was not the enemy and was not to be thought of as a burden; just like Yukio was sure that his twin had never once thought that he was a burden in those childhood days when he could do nothing but cry and wait for Rin to come to the rescue. So for now he let himself cry, allowing his older brother to comfort him just like he had done numerous times in the past. Rin had always been there for him when Yukio needed him the most, and Yukio was sure one day he would get the opportunity to return the favor.

**Author's Note:**

> Much thanks to analineblue for the beta. <3 This one-shot turned out being much longer/more involved than I had originally anticipated, and I very much appreciate her second pair of eyes and her help with the flow.
> 
> I hope all of you readers enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed exploring what I think is inside Yukio’s head. Thoughts, comments, and con-crit are always welcome. =)


End file.
